


Nail Polish

by NimWallace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Nail Polish, Protective Crowley, Protective Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 06:06:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19762138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimWallace/pseuds/NimWallace
Summary: Aziraphale has an encounter with a homophobic man at the nail salon. Crowley is NOT happy about it.





	Nail Polish

Aziraphale was going home from his manicure, and he was feeling a bit—well, confused.  
The angel had been getting his hands manicured really since manicures came out—he liked the feeling of having his nails properly trimmed and clean, his hands moisturized and soft, it was just. . .nice. It was indulgent, yes, but it suited him.  
He'd been going to the same nail salon since it opened, and knew most of the regular patrons and workers. They expected Mr Fell on the same day every month without fail, at three o'clock, with his usual routine.  
This time, however, he had changed that routine.  
He was feeling a bit spontaneous—he'd gone on a romantic walk around London last night with Crowley, and woke up feeling very content and easy—so he'd decided to get his nails _painted_.  
He'd never done it before, though he had seen Crowley sporting black or red nail polish once or twice. It was quite in fashion amongst young women, and he wasn't a young woman, but—well, why not? He liked the way they looked.  
So he settled on a cream color, matching his pastel clothing. It wasn't anything terribly flashy, but then the woman who did his nails—Veronica was her name—suggested that perhaps some sparkling silver french tips would do nicely.  
He was hesitant at first, but then he saw the polish—and _oh_ , it was a _lovely_ color. So he agreed.  
After the clear coat had sufficiently dried, he was thanking Veronica for her wonderful job—excellent as usual—and admiring his newly painted nails.  
That's when it happened.  
A man came in—sharp enough looking fellow, if not a bit normal looking. Tousled brown hair and green eyes and a square form. Crooked smile. Rough, large hands. Perhaps in his fifties or late forties.  
“You almost done, love?” he asked a woman who couldn't have been older than twenty-two, twenty-three.  
He then caught sight of Aziraphale purely by accident.  
Suddenly, his face changed.  
His expression contorted into disgust as he looked the angel up and down, eyes resting on his nails.  
“Fucking faggots,” he muttered. “C'mon, love. I'll show you a real man's hands, eh?” The woman (his girlfriend?) reluctantly got up and followed.  
Aziraphale just stood for a moment, befuddled.  
“Don't pay him any mind, Mr Fell,” Veronica said. “Just some bigot.”  
Aziraphale had nodded, a bit dazed.  
  
  
By the time he was back at his bookshop, Crowley was already there, lounging on the settee with a glass of wine.  
“Hallo Angel, been waiting here for you,” Crowley said, popping up to greet him with a kiss.  
“Sorry, manicure took a bit longer than usual—I—I tried something new,” Aziraphale explained, flushed.  
“Yeah? Wot's that?”  
Aziraphale held out his hands, and Crowley gently lifted them.  
“Oooh. I like that—the color suits you. The tips are nice, too.”  
“Thank you,” Aziraphale said softly. Crowley frowned.  
“Something bothing you, Angel?” he asked. Aziraphale twiddled his hands.  
“It's just that—someone at the nail salon said something rather—well, I don't know, it—it bothered me.”  
Crowley did not have his sunglasses on, since they were alone. Because of this, Aziraphale could see the demon's eyes grow more yellow with fury.  
“Who? What?” he demanded.  
“It was this man—he looked at me, all—strangely. Up and down. And then he—he called me a faggot. Said I wasn't a “real” man.”  
Aziraphale looked away, suddenly very embarrassed.  
“People have called me that before, I just—it felt different.”  
He knew why it was different.  
It was because he and Crowley were together now, and even if neither of them were really “male” they had male bodies, and people _looked_ at them differently. They always had, but it had never been in a. . . _bad_ way, before.  
“Oh, I'm going to fucking _kill_ that basssssstard,” Crowley snarled. “Just tell me who he is, and he'll suddenly find he's about to have a _terrible_ fucking life.”  
Aziraphale looked up at him. He had seen Crowley full of righteous fury before, and he always thought it would have looked very nice on him as an angel. It still looked rather good on him now.  
“There's no need for that,” Aziraphale said softly. “Besides, he's long gone now.”  
Crowley deflated slightly. He studied Aziraphale's face for a moment.  
“Aziraphale?”  
“Hmm, dear?”  
Crowley reached out to tuck a frost white curl behind his ear.  
“You're wonderful, you know that? Heaven, I hate admitting it, but you had me from the Beginning. Because you were just that Good. You've been my best friend for 6,000 years, and now you're even more than that, but you're still the same gorgeous, clever mess that I fell in love with in Eden.”  
Aziraphale flushed, looked away.  
“So,” Crowley continued, “don't mind idiots with chickpeas for brains when they say stupid shit. Your nails look fucking beautiful.”  
“I—I do like them,” Aziraphale confessed quietly.  
“Then wear them, Angel. You don't owe anybody anything.”  
Aziraphale smiled, meeting Crowley's eyes again.  
“Thank you, my dear,” he said. “I love you.”  
“'Love you too, Angel. And say the word, I'll hunt the bastard down and incinerate him.”  
Aziraphale chuckled, patting him on the cheek affectionately.  
“Perhaps another time,” he said. “For now, I would like to have a glass of that wine you've got.”  
Aziraphale did get his nails painted again and, strangely, the man never made an appearance there again. 


End file.
